2004 The Netherlands.
I was settings at my desk. A fairly common one, a grey desk on a large window. The view again was on the internal court of a large office complex. Yellowish. 1500 people leaning on their daily tasks. making sure to design, market, ship the best sport gear in the world. Amongst those people. Me. Not short, not tall, good looking or good looking enough to support any Italian stereotype. Brown hair, military style cut, decisive features, a nose to point at a reasonably healthy masculinity. Hands well, those were refined, elegant, bearing no sign of any physical work. A t-shirt, jeans and a pair of sneakers. A computer screen showing the latest version of Sap, a phone with integrated answering and a flashing light to indicate any incoming call. The light was off. A sleek office chair was to withstand around 90 kg of my chubby body. Well